


A Song Only The Skin Can Feel

by lisachan



Series: Chronicles of the Academy [16]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Multi, Threesome - M/FTM/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 10:06:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18341486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisachan/pseuds/lisachan
Summary: Shannen has just recently been saved from a darkness that would have killed him if Manila hadn't taken care of it, and he's now taking his time to recover.It's not easy to do it, though, with a boyfriend like Langley.(Luckily enough, he's got another boyfriend, though. A much less annoying one.)





	A Song Only The Skin Can Feel

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a trainwreck /O\   
> I'm glad I wrote it, though.

Celes can only come at night, when his workday’s over. He spends more than half the day trapped between council meetings, approving this or that law, discussing this or that event, and almost the whole rest of it caged in the Throne Room, where he sits on the Crystal Throne while representatives of this or that association parade before him asking for this or that favor, demanding for justice for this or that supposed iniquity or begging for recognition of this or that right.

Shannen imagines that must be pretty boring. Celes has always taken his role very seriously, and he never shied away from confrontation with the council, as much as he has never refused to meet a member of his people who happened to need something, but he’s also always been a man of action. Even back when they were still attending the Academy, he got bored during theoretical classes and tended to avoid the student representatives meetings, because he preferred training or taking power naps under the sycamore trees in the campus’ garden before one intensive study session and the other. He must find pretty exhausting to be constricted and so tightly woven into the political fabric of the kingdom.

However, it can’t be as exhausting as it is to lie in the bed for the entire day with Langley by his side.

Now, since he went through literal hell and almost died, Shannen’s perspective has taken a radical turn towards softness, whereas before it could easily be compared with granite as far as hardness went, and as a consequence of that even his tolerance of Langley’s corny behavior has dramatically increased, but not as much as it would take to survive a whole day by his side – let alone an entire week, which is more or less as long as Shannen’s been trapped in bed by order of the court’s physician.

Nox and Helena have been of some help, passing by often, though briefly, to say hi and make sure he wasn’t _completely_ alone with Langley for days on end, and he received quite a few other visits that, though coming from people he couldn’t have cared less about, at least had the undoubted merit of distracting him from his current condition, but still, the majority of time he’s spent sitting down on this bed. In this room. With Langley by his side.

And as an improvised nurse and unsolicited caretaker, Langley is _the worst_.

First of all, he doesn’t seem to be able to understand the precious value of silence. He behaves as though silence was a curse that needed to be snuffed out by pronouncing words constantly. It’s exhausting because he talks so much and at such length of completely inconsequential and irrelevant things that, at some point, his words stop making sense, and his voice turns into background noise, a continuous, unbearable, soft buzzing your ears can’t quite isolate and, therefore, cannot ignore. Like the low humming of some far away automated machinery, or the incessant rumble of an invisible storm. But ten times worse, because contrary to the imaginary automated machinery and invisible storm he’s _close_ , and his voice is louder than any humming or rumble.

Second of all, he’s constantly worrying. Doesn’t matter how many times through the day Shannen tells him he’s fine, that he just needs to rest, that he doesn’t feel pain anywhere and that no, he doesn’t feel any sudden and inexplicable homicidal impulse which will make his eyes turn completely black and make him speak about destroying cities and killing everyone in a fifty miles radius, Langley will _always_ think he’s not alright and needs to be taken care of.

Now, Shannen hates being coddled and pampered. He doesn’t like people looking after him, he doesn’t like to constantly have someone by his side asking him if he’s comfortable or perhaps he needs one more pillow, he doesn’t like being offered chicken broth and hot water bottles, he doesn’t like being tucked in every time he gets himself free from his cage of warm blankets and he _hates_ being asked “are you okay? Can I do something to make you feel better?”. And Langley, having known him for _years_ , now, should know that.

And yet he’s always there, trying to puff up the pillow for him, offering him something hot to sip on or cold to suckle on, asking him questions, feeling his temperature. Over and over again, Shannen has asked him to back off, trying to be as delicate as possible, and therefore using much less curses than he would normally use, and telling him to fuck off way less often than he usually would’ve, but Langley’s played deaf to his requests because he feels this drive towards him, this constant tension towards trying to make sure he’s okay. And Shannen knows it’s because he got scared shitless when he almost lost him. But still – it’s fucking annoying.

It’s the third thing, though, that Shannen finds annoying the most. And that’s that, no matter how worried Langley is about his health and well-being, and no matter how convinced he is that, right now, Shannen’s a person to be taken care of, that doesn’t stop him from being constantly horny and, therefore, to be constantly trying to get up his ass. This, of all things, is the thing that Shannen hates the most – he would take _months_ of being treated like a two years old kid with measles, he would take _years_ of being talked stupid by a thousand people at the same time, if only that would stop Langley to keep trying to fuck him.

Shannen doesn’t hate sex, per se. He actually quite enjoys watching it happen right before him, he cherishes dearly the permanent first-row seat ticket for some good hardcore live porn he won when he got involved with Langley and Celes, and every now and then, when all the moons of Tanit align the correct way, he doesn’t disdain taking part to the action and getting some too, but that’s not the norm, and he doesn’t think it should be. He’s always been pretty cold as far as sex went, he likes it enough when he feels inclined in that direction but it doesn’t happen often to actually _see him_ inclined in that direction.

Now, at this point Langley’s been his boyfriend for almost five years. He should _know_ this, and he shouldn’t try and compensate for being so worried with trying to fuck him all the time. It’s unbearable – both trying to keep him at bay and having to constantly tell him no. He doesn’t _enjoy_ having to repeat over and over again that he doesn’t feel like having sex, for fuck’s sake. Why can’t Langley just give it a rest?

If Langley was a smart person, he’d simply wait for Celes to be in the room to ask for sex. If there is one person, as a matter of fact, that can put Shannen in the mood for some fucking, that’s Celes. Shannen doesn’t know why – he doesn’t feel like Celes changed his way of approaching sex, he’s still mostly not interested in it, but he’s interested in Celes, he likes to watch him get laid and he likes the idea of being sexually involved with him, in any way, more than he likes the idea of being sexually involved with anyone else. There are thing he’s not willing to do with anyone, Langley included, which he’s willing to do with Celes, for example. And on certain days, even when he doesn’t feel like fucking, sometimes it happens that seeing Celes doing something – not necessarily something sexual, sometimes it’s even the most trivial things that he finds triggering, like watching him practice magic, or hearing him sing softly – drastically changes his mind, and he finds himself getting hard all of a sudden, and on those occasions he usually takes part to sex sessions that results in incredibly satisfying endings for all those involved.

It’s just easier, for him, to want to have sex when Celes is going to be part of that, in one way or another. And Langley knows that too, so why doesn’t he use all this knowledge he has to try and be less annoying? It would be better for him too: right now, he asks for sex a thousand times per day and he’s never allowed to have it; if he just asked for it three times a week, making sure Celes is in the room when he does it, his success rate would increase of at least 80%.

Today’s been a particularly heavy day – and that’s because today Langley’s been a particularly heavy Langley. He was on edge for some reason Shannen didn’t and didn’t want to understand, and he started pestering him early in the morning, waking him up with cooing and kissing, calling him ridiculously corny names that made him reconsider the whole relationship choice and many other choices he made during his life, seeing as they ultimately led to this unbearable situation, and when he finally couldn’t take it anymore he blatantly tried to get Shannen out of his underpants, which Shannen definitely did not appreciate.

The consequence of that was that Shannen started screaming that he couldn’t bear him one second longer, and if he didn’t leave the room immediately he’d have skinned him alive and he’d have eaten his entrails. Langley had answered with a “but sweetness, I just love you so much, I can’t stand not being close to you”, which had enraged Shannen even more. So he ended up scratching his face with a wild roar that sent Langley fleeing in shock, like some terrified pigeon.

Since then, he’s been basking in peaceful silence. Two hours of peace and serenity that have done much for his well-being. He feels stronger already – he doesn’t doubt that an entire night of Langley-deprivation would certainly lead him towards complete recovery, and he’s wondering if he should ask the guards patrolling the hallways to kindly keep him out of the room until tomorrow morning, when someone knocks on the door, and Shannen’s whole spirit is lifted, because he knows that’s Celes, and he can’t wait to see him.

It would be impossible to explain it so someone who’s never shared the same room with him, but Celes, like a planet, has his own personal atmosphere, his own personal gravity. It’s something related to his strength and the way he carries it, like the blood right that it is, with the pride and confidence of a true royal, and it’s something that makes him magnetic, something that changes the very structure of reality around his body. Empty space changes its composition to welcome him, he doesn’t just fill a void, he extinguishes it. 

If Shannen was a romantic, he would say Celes is the answer to all the questions reality could ever ask someone. The meaning of life compressed in five feet and two inches. 

He’s not a romantic, so he doesn’t say it. He thinks it, though.

“Hey,” Celes smiles and sits on the edge of the bed. The short skirt of his tunic lifts up in the movement, showing a good portion of his thigh. Were Langley here, now, he’d be on his knees already, begging Celes to let him take a little bite out of him. “Did they get you something to eat?”

“Yeah,” Shannen nods, relaxing against the headboard of the bed. It’s amazing how much more relaxed he feels now that Celes is here. He’s therapeutic. He would think they should get him patented, if that didn’t mean they’d have to share him with the world – and sometimes it’s hard enough having to share him with each other. “Were you missing me or did Langley come cry on your lap?”

“Both,” Celes chuckles, crouching his shoulders, “He was desperate. You destroyed him. What did you tell him?”

“Didn’t he say?”

“He tried, but he was sobbing too hard and I didn’t quite catch it.”

Shannen snorts, passing a hand through his hair to get them out of his own face. “I honestly have no idea how you deal with him. He’s unbearable.”

Celes chuckles again. “I love him.”

“And so do I, but I still can’t stand him.”

“You can stand him,” Celes smiles, “Just for shorter periods of time. Not all of us are programmed to run marathons. Some of us are sprinters.”

“Well, I don’t wanna run marathons and I don’t wanna sprint either,” Shannen frowns, annoyed at the metaphor as it implies it should be in their nature to bear with Langley, “Actually, I don’t wanna run at all. If I had to choose to run, in any direction, it would be the opposite from Langley’s.”

This time, Celes doesn’t just smile nor chuckle, he throws his head back and bursts into laughing, a hand on his stomach, the other slapping Shannen’s thigh through the covers and then resting there, nonchalantly.

He looks amazing when he laughs like that. Shannen wishes he had the words to describe him. Langley’s better at that – he’s got a whole vocabulary written around Celes’ beauty. Shannen lacks his eloquence, so he just leans in and places a soft kiss underneath his ear, inhaling his scent, tasting the salt of his skin on his lips, rejoicing in his presence, in the strength of his magic, powerful enough to flood the air with energy Shannen can absorb through his pores, trying to recharge himself after the endless night that’s turned him off almost entirely.

“He sent me here, you know?” Celes blows out a little laughter, “It was the only thing I could make out of his sobbing. He begged me to come here and convince you to take him back.”

“I would gladly take him back,” Shannen grunts against his throat, “If he wasn’t so pushy. He kept nagging me all day, I had two choices only: either I sent him away or I killed him. He should appreciate my efforts in trying to keep him alive. Sometimes I feel like I care about stopping myself from murdering him more than he cares about not giving me reasons to shed his blood.”

Celes half turns to place a kiss against his forehead. “We all appreciate your efforts, Shan,” he whispers, “We’re all very grateful.”

“Honestly,” he mutters, “You could prove it a little better.”

“Oh,” Celes smirks and tries to back away an inch, just to meet his eyes, “Was that some sort of low-key innuendo? Were you trying to flirt with me?”

“Sometimes, I swear, you can be as unbearable as he is.”

Celes’ smirk grows a little wider as he settles on his palms and knees, forcing Shannen to back off and lean, once again, with his back against the headboard of the bed. “I don’t think you mean that,” he says as he moves forward on all fours like a wild animal, his mismatched eyes glistening in the dim red sunset light passing through the curtains. “But you’re cute when you want me and you don’t wanna say it, so I’m gonna give you a pass and I won’t punish you for lying.”

The self-confidence Celes acquired turning into a boy never ceases to amaze him. Celes never was exactly a shy one, but he was discreet, and even more than that he tended not to put himself out there too much, scared of what kind of judgment he would’ve been met with. He didn’t believe in himself – his own strength, his beauty, his charisma – enough to act daringly. That meant that, more often than not, it was Langley who had to push him in any direction that would’ve ended in sexual contact.

It was nice to look at, but it’s nothing compared to what he looks like now that his self-esteem has improved and he can act accordingly. The way he smiles, the way he moves, the sound of his voice, even the rhythm of his breath – everything, now, seems like a symphony his body plays to be listened to. There’s perfect accord between all parts of this secret harmony, a sound no ear can listen to, a song only the skin can feel. 

Shannen swallows and rests his shoulders back, his hands naturally falling on Celes’ hips when he sits on his lap. He smells like peaches and there’s a vague sweaty trace on his skin. Shannen just knows if he licked him he’d taste salt, and he feels suddenly thirsty just imagining it.

“You didn’t have time to take a shower?”

“Are you saying I’m stinky?”

“No,” Shannen leans in and places a kiss on his pulse point, closing his eyes for a second to enjoy the moment more fully, “I’m just asking.”

“Why do you wanna know?” Celes asks back. His voice vibrates through his skin and on Shannen’s lips, and he parts them and turns his kiss open and wet to swallow those vibrations, absorb them, pretending he could drink his voice and hold it captive at the bottom of his stomach.

“If you didn’t, I have to assume you didn’t stop by your room after you wrapped up your meetings,” Shannen whispers on him, “That you were so desperate to see me you ran here as soon as you could.”

“And how would that make you feel?” Celes’ voice becomes a little softer, but also a little deeper, vaguely rougher.

Shannen takes his time to truly think about it, though he knows the answer. “Blessed,” he finally says, rubbing his face against the curve of Celes’ throat.

Celes laughs, wrapping his arms around Shannen’s neck, holding him close. “You think of me more highly than I deserve.”

“You’re wrong,” Shannen sticks his tongue out and draws a wet line up Celes’ neck, stopping right underneath his ear, “I think very lowly of you. Especially when you’re sitting on my cock. You have no idea the things I think about when you’re acting sexual.”

“Mmmh,” Celes tilts his head to the side, “Enlighten me, then.”

“I think you’re dirty as fuck when you suck on Langley’s cock,” he answers, something in the warmth Celes’ body emanates making him feel safe enough to utter these words despite the potential consequences of them, “One time he came on your face and I thought you were a whore and you clearly liked it.”

“You don’t say it like an offense,” Celes comments, a tiny smile on his lips, “I don’t know how to take it.”

“I don’t know how you should take it, but I know seeing you like that makes me horny as fuck,” he almost growls, lost in his thoughts, in the countless memories watching Langley and Celes fuck over time gave him, “Can you feel it?” he adds, thrusting his hips upwards so that Celes can feel his cock quickly getting harder through his pants.

“Yeah,” Celes whispers against his hair. And then, in a lower voice, “There’s someone else who wants to feel it too.”

Shennen opens one eye only, already knowing what to expect. Langley’s standing right in front of the bed, and he’s looking at them wide eyed and tense like a wild beast ready to jump on its prey. He snorts, closing his eye again and hiding his face against Celes’ chest. “You should’ve asked for permission to let him in, Cee,” he says, “I’m not over how fucking angry he made me today, yet.”

“Exposure to trauma is the best way to move past from it,” Celes smirks, moving back enough to let Shannen look at him.

He’s damn lucky he looks much too good to be kicked out of the room now.

He grunts and brings him back closer, clashing against him in a hungry kiss. Time for talking’s over, now, it’s time to touch, to kiss, to bite, to get lost in what they become when they’re all together, the perfectly oiled mechanism that makes Shannen think that no matter how hard it is to bear Langley’s shenanigans and no matter how much of an effort it takes him to survive their relationship when Celes is not around, it’s all worth it. If he needs to struggle for the rest of his life, he’ll keep doing it, because there’s nothing - _nothing_ \- that can make him feel as alive as he feels when they’re together.

All of them. Even Langley.

“Come here, you impossible scourge,” he mutters, gesturing Langley to come closer.

Langley whimpers as he climbs on the bed and settles right behind Celes, extending both his long arms to wrap them both in a hug. “I was terrified you’d never ask,” he exhales, clearly relieved, “I thought you would keep me standing there watching all night.”

“You’d have deserved it.”

“You’re much too cruel to me, my dearest.”

“Stop calling me pet names, or you’ll find out how much crueler I can be.”

“Boys,” Celes chuckles, stopping their bickering with a kiss on both their mouths, Langley first, Shannen right after, so that he can taste him on his tongue, “Stop fighting. You should concentrate on more important things.”

“Like you, rosebud?” Langley smiles, placing a dozen little kisses up and down Celes’ neck.

“Precisely,” Celes answers, closing his eyes and tilting his head to gran Langley’s lips more access.

Shannen swallows, looking at them. They look so good – he wishes he could put the effect they have on him in words, but it’d be too hard. The effort it would take would take all pleasure out of just watching them, and after all he doesn’t need to explain this, he doesn’t need to motivate the rush of adrenaline that overcomes him every time he sees them get this close and move that way.

They just look amazing – the way Langley handles Celes like he was something ripe to harvest and bite, the way Celes melts in his hands, juicy and ready for the taking. 

He wants to be part of that. He wants them both.

He gets closer, his hands sliding up Celes’ thighs, underneath his skirt. His skin feels soft, warm and smooth, and Shannen licks his lips thinking about it. Celes moans and Langley smirks, and Shannen realizes he’s not thinking anymore – not with his brain, at least. His body has an instinct that it will keep following, but reason has left him completely. He doesn’t need to think. He just needs to feel.

He closes his eyes, because he doesn’t need to watch either. Celes’ moans and Langley’s voice can guide him. He can accept their guidance – he likes the place they’re at, now. A place filled with pleasure, a heaven for three. He’s got a spot, there, on one of Celes’ sides and inside him.

He’s going to take it.

*

“Were you really that angry at me?”

“I could’ve skinned you alive.”

Celes chuckles, still lazily lying between them. His white skin is covered in pearly drops of sweat and come, especially on his stomach, and Langley dives in to clean him with the tip of his tongue as soon as he notices.

“You must be feeling better,” Celes comments, his fingers moving slowly through Langley’s wild black curls, “You keep threatening Langley’s life. That’s usually a sign of good health, for you.”

“I can assure you, even when I was unconscious I kept wishing to come back just so I could kill him,” Shannen snorts, rolling his eyes, “He kept wailing and calling me names. Even when your mother came, he put up such a pitiful show. I was ashamed for him.”

“Ah!” Langley exclaims, looking up at him, “You remember, then. I thought you couldn’t feel anything.”

That’s not exactly accurate, Shannen thinks as he sighs. Darkness had invaded him, but it had not taken him. He was there, trapped in a cage in the depths of his own body. Present, and yet powerless.

“I felt everything,” he answers, his eyes getting a little darker as he leans in and places a small kiss right behind Celes’ ear, “And I could think.”

“That’s bizarre,” Langley blinks, curiously, “And what did you think of?”

Shannen turns to look at him, and shakes with him a look that makes Langley swallow. “That I had to find a way to come back to you,” he simply says.

He doesn’t feel the need to lie. Even though it’s embarrassing, it’s the truth.

When Langley coos and throws his arms around his neck, literally weeping with joy, though, he mercilessly kicks him off the bed.

He’s not exactly reconsidering wanting to come back, but he fear he might start, if he hears Langley call him even just another pet name, so he makes sure he hits his head and loses consciousness, when he hits the ground.

Problem solved. At least for a few minutes.


End file.
